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Classes had just ended at Harvard-Westlake School.
As on most days around that time, students began leaving their classrooms and heading home.
Harvard-Westlake wasn't just any school. It was one of the most prestigious preparatory schools in Los Angeles, known for its academic rigor, its strong arts and athletics programs, and for a tuition that hovered around fifty thousand dollars a year.
Among its students were the children of famous lawyers, studio executives, Hollywood producers, and tech entrepreneurs. The kind of place where ambition and connections were almost as present as the air itself.
Students started filtering out of the main buildings in small groups. Some with backpacks slung over their shoulders, others checking their phones, others chatting animatedly about different things.
In one of those groups was Sarah Ashford. She walked across the central courtyard with a confident stride, her uniform impeccable.
Her blonde hair fell loosely down her back, and her striking eyes observed the surroundings with a mixture of calm and faint superiority.
Several classmates walked beside her chatting among themselves, but it was obvious the small group moved at Sarah's pace, as if she naturally set the rhythm.
It wasn't as though she considered herself some kind of queen bee or anything out of a stereotypical movie. But there was something in Sarah's presence and personality that made her a kind of leader that others instinctively followed.
As they exited through one of the school's main gates, some students began looking in a particular direction.
First one, then two, then several more.
Something had caught their attention, and Sarah noticed it. So she looked that way as well. Her friends did the same.
When Sarah saw the cause, she frowned slightly, her lips forming a small expression of annoyance.
Leaning casually against a low sports car was Owen.
Her older brother stood there relaxed, his back resting against the car door, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, calmly watching the stream of students leaving the school.
The car behind him drew attention even at a school where many students had wealthy parents.
It was a white Nissan GT-R NISMO, with red accents on the front splitter and side skirts. The massive air intakes and carbon-fiber components gave it an aggressive look even while completely stationary.
The large rear wing rose above the roofline.
Some students passing nearby slowed down to get a better look.
Others looked at Owen.
There was something curious about the contrast: the car looked like a racing machine, while Owen leaned against it with complete calm, as if the six-hundred-plus-horsepower sports car were simply a convenient place to wait.
Sarah watched him from a distance for a moment longer. Then she let out a small sigh. Her expression carried a very particular nuance—a mix of mild irritation and a kind of quiet pride she would never admit out loud.
"What a show-off…" she muttered to herself.
"Your brother…!" one of her friends whispered, leaning slightly toward her with barely contained excitement.
Sarah glanced at her, raising an eyebrow at how quickly she had recognized Owen.
"Did he already come back from shooting that movie he was working on?" another asked, still staring in that direction.
"No," Sarah replied dryly. "What you're seeing is a very advanced hologram."
Her friends looked at her for a second then let out a small laugh.
"Well, the hologram is very well made," one of them said with an amused smile. "Your brother is very… very hot."
Another nodded immediately. "And that car is incredible."
"And besides," added a third conspiratorially, "he's single."
Sarah sighed slowly.
"Hello?" she said, looking at them with an expression of disbelief. "I'm right here. You're talking about my brother while his sister is standing next to you."
The three of them laughed without the slightest guilt.
"I wouldn't mind if you liked my brother," one of them joked.
Sarah rolled her eyes. She didn't reply. Her situation had become like this ever since Owen had taken off into fame and success in the film industry.
At Harvard-Westlake School, it wasn't unusual to see students with connections to the entertainment business. There were children of actors, producers, studio executives, even families far wealthier than hers.
But Owen's situation was still particular. He had an Academy Award nomination, a movie he had just finished shooting with Jenna Ortega that would be released soon, and everything else surrounding his rising career.
That made her brother difficult to ignore and brought extra attention to Sarah at school.
"Hey," one of her friends said after a few seconds, "can we ask him for a picture?"
Sarah shook her head almost immediately.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm in a hurry."
She didn't give any further explanation. But she wasn't being entirely honest.
She hadn't seen Owen in almost a month, since he had been in Boston filming Good Will Hunting, and they had barely been able to talk beyond messages and quick phone calls.
She wasn't planning to waste the moment by sharing it.
"See you tomorrow," Sarah said.
She gave a quick wave and began walking straight toward Owen.
"Did you really have to come with such a flashy car?" Sarah asked as soon as she was close enough.
The car itself wasn't a Ferrari, nor did it have a ridiculous color, but it still stood out.
It was low, wide, clearly a sports car. At a school like Harvard-Westlake, where most of the cars in the parking lot were new BMWs, Audis, or Mercedes, expensive but discreet sedans, a Japanese sports car like that did not go unnoticed.
"You think I spent more than two hundred thousand dollars just to leave it in the garage? I have to show it off a little," Owen replied with a faint smile, straightening up from where he had been leaning against the car door.
To be exact, the car had cost him $240,000.
It was a Nissan GT-R NISMO (R35), the most extreme version of the GT-R developed by Nissan's performance division, NISMO.
Each engine of that model was hand-assembled in Japan by a single engineer.
It was also relatively exclusive: only a few hundred were allocated to the U.S. market each year, making it fairly rare even in a city full of expensive cars like Los Angeles.
The BMW Owen had bought earlier had cost him a little over $35,000. The Nissan cost more than six times that.
And although it was still cheaper than many brand-new European supercars, it wasn't that far away from them either. Some base models from Ferrari or Lamborghini started around $300,000, meaning the GT-R NISMO was, surprisingly, quite close to that territory.
Of course, in the second-hand market Owen could have bought a Ferrari or Lamborghini for a similar price.
Or, being honest, he could have bought a brand-new one without much trouble with the money he had now.
But that wasn't what he wanted. He liked Japanese cars.
He wasn't an extreme car enthusiast. He wasn't an engine expert or someone obsessed with every technical specification, and he didn't consider himself a particularly exceptional driver. He simply enjoyed driving.
It was entertaining for him, an easy way to clear his mind. And of course, he had always enjoyed looking at good cars.
Among his favorite driving-related movies were the early installments of The Fast and the Furious, back before the franchise eventually turned into a massive spectacle of espionage and over-the-top action.
He also liked Drive, starring Ryan Gosling. And Baby Driver.
Though those last two didn't exist in this reality.
Another one he liked quite a bit was Rush, starring Chris Hemsworth. Even though Owen didn't understand much about Formula 1, he had found the story of the fierce rivalry between two drivers in the 1970s fascinating.
Still, the price of the Nissan was something that, in the past, Owen would never have imagined spending on something like a car.
He had been perfectly happy with the BMW. He liked how it looked, it was comfortable, spacious, and it did exactly what a car needed to do, move around the city.
But when you suddenly had several million dollars in your bank account, perceptions changed a little.
In his previous life he had also had money and a comfortable financial situation, but a purchase of more than two hundred thousand dollars would have been a very visible expense within his total assets. It wasn't the kind of decision you made lightly.
Now, however, things were different.
He had sold the Paranormal Activity IP for $42 million, in addition to the money he had earned from the film's theatrical run, which had been considerable.
And in a few months he would also start receiving money from Good Will Hunting, under a better deal than the 20% post-theatrical profit participation he had obtained for his first film.
Compared to those numbers, spending a little over two hundred thousand dollars on a car felt like a small expense.
That didn't mean he planned to become a car collector.
"I thought you'd greet me with a hug after not seeing me for so long," Owen added in a mock-sad tone.
Sarah narrowed her eyes. She knew that sarcastic tone of her brother's perfectly well. She knew he didn't mean it.
She let out a soft huff and simply opened the car door, sitting down in the passenger seat.
Owen smiled slightly.
In the past, Sarah would have reacted immediately, starting some absurd argument just to contradict him. But lately it seemed she was learning to control her temper a little better.
Owen walked around the car and got into the driver's seat.
"Put on your seatbelt," he said as he started the engine. "This car reaches sixty miles per hour in about 2.9 seconds."
Sarah obeyed without arguing, fastening her seatbelt as the Nissan smoothly pulled out of the parking lot.
For a few seconds the only sound was the deep rumble of the engine as they merged onto the street.
"You've been spending quite a bit of money," Sarah finally commented.
Her tone wasn't accusatory, but there was a slight note of warning in it.
She had been paying attention.
Owen had financed Good Will Hunting entirely out of his own pocket. Now he was also developing another horror movie that Sarah knew was in preparation, though she didn't know many details. And it was obvious that a project like that would cost several more million dollars.
Then there was the car worth more than two hundred thousand dollars.
The rent for his apartment. And not to mention the office for his production company which, according to what she had heard, cost more than twelve thousand dollars a month.
Among other things.
"Don't go bankrupt in record time," Sarah added.
"I appreciate your concern for my financial health," Owen said calmly, keeping his eyes on the road, "but I'll be fine."
He paused briefly before adding, "Besides, YouTube paid for this car last month."
In February, his channel had generated around four hundred thousand dollars.
A large portion of that came from his Sundance Festival vlog, a video more than twenty-five minutes long that had surpassed 28 million views. That video alone had generated him roughly $215,000.
And that didn't even include the sponsorships he had integrated into the video itself, which had also earned him a considerable sum.
On top of that, the channel continued to receive steady traffic on other content, especially One Minute Time Machine and Paperman, which had gained traction again thanks to the media attention from Sundance and the awards they had received there.
In other words, Owen had been able to pay for the car with YouTube alone and still keep a significant amount of money left over.
Sarah nodded slightly and didn't bring up the subject again.
Lately Owen had become surprisingly good at managing his money, a trait that seemed inherited directly from their father.
Something that, some time ago, Sarah would never have associated with him.
They arrived at the house, and Elizabeth was already waiting for them.
She had prepared a full afternoon snack on the dining table: a small porcelain teapot for tea, cookies, and several sweet pastries. It was obvious she had been waiting for a while.
As soon as Owen stepped through the door, Elizabeth stood up with a bright smile.
"Owen!"
She hugged him tightly and didn't let go for several seconds.
Owen returned the hug far more naturally than he would have in the past.
"Mom… you're crushing my lungs," he said with a laugh.
Elizabeth finally released him, though she still held his shoulders while looking at him.
After that, Owen opened the backpack he had brought with him.
"I brought a few things from Boston."
He knew his mother would appreciate them. Elizabeth always asked him to bring back small souvenirs from every shoot he went on. Nothing expensive or extravagant. She had specified that more than once.
Just small things.
Simple objects that she would later keep as memories of Owen's film shoots.
Elizabeth had always been one of Owen's biggest supporters, and the very first, in his acting career.
Owen began taking out the souvenirs one by one.
Elizabeth received each one with enthusiasm.
"Oh, this one is beautiful."
"Look at this!"
"I love it."
Sarah was watching the scene from the table with some interest as well. But when Owen finished taking the items out and closed the backpack without adding anything else, she looked at him.
"Didn't you bring anything for me?"
Owen turned his head toward her.
"No."
He said it completely naturally, without the slightest trace of guilt.
Then he looked back at his mother and continued talking calmly about the shoot, telling a few anecdotes about things that had happened during the month of February.
'This bastard…' Sarah thought as she lightly clenched her fist, resisting the urge to smack him on the head.
The conversation continued calmly as they drank tea and sampled the snacks Elizabeth had prepared.
Finally, after a while, Owen set his cup down on the table.
Then his tone shifted slightly.
"I have an offer for you."
Elizabeth and Sarah exchanged a glance for a second before looking back at him.
"What offer?" Sarah asked immediately, a faint glint of suspicion in her eyes.
That tone could only mean one thing. Something related to movies.
"Two roles in the next horror film from Second Take Films," Owen replied, getting straight to the point.
Sarah's eyes widened instantly and a smile appeared on her face.
Elizabeth was also surprised, though her reaction was more restrained.
"Lights Out?" she asked.
"Yes," Owen nodded.
They both already knew he was working on a feature film based on the concept of the short film he had made with Matt and uploaded to YouTube.
Owen opened his backpack and pulled out two printed scripts, "Two roles for Lights Out," he said, placing them on the table. "Sarah, for a character considered the second lead: Marlene, the younger sister of the protagonist Rebecca. And for you, Mom… you'd play the mother of both of them: Natalie."
Elizabeth blinked in surprise.
"Read your scenes later," Owen continued. "The film is contained, about 85 minutes, and basically centers on four main characters."
He gestured lightly toward the script in front of Sarah.
"Marlene has about thirty-five minutes of screen time."
Then he pointed to the other one.
"Natalie, the mother, about twenty-two minutes. But her role is key to the mystery surrounding the entity."
Owen gently pushed the scripts across the coffee table, leaving one in front of each of them.
Sarah grabbed hers almost immediately. Her hands trembled slightly with excitement.
Then she looked at the other script.
Then at her mother.
And finally back at Owen.
"Mom too!?" she asked, clearly not expecting Elizabeth to receive an acting offer as well.
Elizabeth, who had remained silent for exactly that reason, also raised her gaze toward her son.
Waiting for an explanation.
"Yes, Mom too," Owen replied calmly, turning his attention to her. "I know horror isn't your favorite genre. But I also know you've been going with Sarah to the acting workshop, and that you did theater in the past."
He paused briefly, "And you've always loved cinema."
Elizabeth lowered her gaze slightly to the script, thoughtful.
It was true. In her youth she had acted in a few amateur theater plays and had always enjoyed performing. But life had taken other paths, family, work, responsibilities that had gradually pushed that interest into the background.
Before she could respond, Sarah spoke with growing excitement.
"This is amazing, Mom! Our first feature film together!"
For her, it was incredible.
She hadn't expected Owen to offer her an important role, even if she wasn't the main protagonist, so soon. And from the way he had said it, it was clear there wouldn't be auditions or competition with other actresses.
The role was already hers.
Elizabeth picked up the script, running her fingers over the cover while looking at it.
"I don't know, Owen…" she finally murmured. "I've never acted in anything this serious. Only theater, and that was a very long time ago."
Owen leaned slightly toward her and gently took her hand.
"I know, Mom. I'm just giving you the option. The decision is yours."
He gave her a small reassuring smile.
"Think about it. Besides, you'll do very well. It's not a huge role in terms of screen time, but it's important for the story. And it could be a good way to find out if you actually enjoy it."
He paused before adding in a softer tone, "You always wanted to do it, didn't you?"
Elizabeth stayed silent for a few seconds.
It was true that she had started accompanying Sarah to acting workshops, where she also participated. Perhaps, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had imagined the possibility of appearing one day in one of her son's projects, since he seemed to be a natural creator.
Though she had imagined something more like a small short film.
Not a feature film.
Elizabeth lifted her gaze toward him.
"I'll think about it," she finally said.
Sarah looked at the script with a small smile, "Many actresses would be dying of envy."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "Doesn't it bother you anymore when people call you a nepo baby?"
After One Minute Time Machine, a few comments like that had appeared online. Very few, actually, but enough for Sarah to notice them. At first she had complained quite a bit.
Over time, she had started caring less about them.
"Not as much as before," Sarah replied. Then she looked at Owen.
"When do rehearsals start?" she asked, taking a sip of her tea, which had already grown a little cold.
"I'd say in one or two weeks, at most," Owen answered.
The reply almost made Sarah spit out her tea.
"What!? Two weeks!?"
This time Elizabeth also looked genuinely surprised, "Is the pre-production that advanced already?"
Owen let out a small laugh at their reactions.
Clearly both of them thought he and Matt had only recently finished the script and that the project was still in a very early stage.
"Yeah…" he said, and began explaining how everything had actually been developed quietly at Matt's request.
Sarah listened with increasing excitement, "That's incredible. In a month I'll be shooting my first movie."
Elizabeth, however, frowned slightly, "Owen… aren't you working too much?"
At the beginning of the year he had been busy with the pre-production of Good Will Hunting and Sundance, where he had filmed a vlog almost like it was a full-time job. Then all of February had been spent shooting the film. She hadn't known that on top of that he had also been handling the pre-production of another movie.
"I'm fine, Mom," Owen replied calmly. "I sleep seven or eight hours most nights."
Then he naturally shifted the subject, steering the conversation elsewhere.
The conversation continued for a while longer until Owen glanced at the time.
It was close to 6:20 PM.
"I should get going," he finally said as he stood up. He had plans to have dinner with Jenna.
He picked up his jacket from the back of the chair.
"Read the script calmly," he added. "In the next few days we'll finalize the casting for the protagonist, so you still have a little time to think about it."
He looked at both of them. He wasn't entirely sure whether his mother would accept. As for Sarah, the answer was fairly obvious.
A few more words and Owen had already said goodbye, leaving the house and heading toward the supermarket before returning to his apartment.
When the door closed, Sarah looked at her mother with a small smile as she saw her still deep in thought.
"You're really considering it, huh?" she said in a slightly amused tone. "It'll be great acting together. And Matt will direct us. He's great to work with. Owen will probably be around too."
She knew that the most likely scenario was that the shoot would take place outside California. Filming in Los Angeles was expensive, and many independent productions preferred other states because of tax incentives.
But she wasn't sure how much time Owen himself would spend on set. Even though he was the producer and financier, he also had a very busy schedule.
Elizabeth continued looking at the script calmly.
"I'm not just thinking about that…" she finally said. "I'm worried that Owen has too many things on his schedule."
Sarah frowned slightly, "I don't think it's a big deal. He said he sleeps enough, and I don't think he's lying. He looks fine. If he were really exhausted or stressed, it would show."
He had spent the afternoon with them talking, laughing, telling stories from the shoot he didn't look at all like someone on the verge of collapsing.
"Yes, that's true," Elizabeth admitted.
Owen still visited the family, had dinner with them, talked enthusiastically, and joked around as always.
Nothing in his behavior gave the impression of someone completely consumed by work.
Even so, Elizabeth couldn't help thinking about it.
Sleeping eight hours was good.
But if, out of the remaining sixteen hours of the day, he spent twelve working, even if it was something he was passionate about—sooner or later that pace could become exhausting.
…
Meanwhile, at the supermarket, Owen pushed the cart down one of the aisles while checking the shopping list Jenna had given him.
Between one item and the next, his mind inevitably drifted back to the Lights Out script.
This version was different from the one he remembered from his past life.
And the reason had a name: Matt Rogers.
Owen had given his best friend quite a bit of creative freedom, so the current script wasn't an exact copy of the movie he remembered. And that had been a deliberate decision.
After all, both the original short film and the feature film worked because of a very simple idea.
The concept.
The entity that only appears when the lights go out.
As long as that rule worked, there was no need to follow the original script word for word.
That didn't mean Owen hadn't been involved. He had helped a lot in refining the story to speed up the process, so characters like Rebecca still existed, though with some changes, and the mother remained the central figure connected to the entity.
But Matt was the director.
And directors like to build their own stories and give them their own tone.
Owen trusted him.
For example, one of the most obvious changes had been the younger sibling. Instead of a little boy, which was what Owen had originally proposed, Matt had suggested a teenage sister, around fourteen or fifteen years old.
It hadn't been Owen's idea in order to create a role for Sarah.
Matt had simply thought that a teenage sister created a much more interesting dynamic with Rebecca. A more complex relationship, with greater emotional tension, rather than the typical protective relationship with a younger brother of ten years old or less.
Another important change was the tone.
Matt wanted to move away from cheap jump scares. He wasn't interested in sudden shocks placed only to make the audience jump in their seats. He preferred building a more uncomfortable, psychological atmosphere.
There were more scenes set in darkness, in different locations, not just inside a house.
And there was something else.
Something Matt had decided to change completely: the origin of the entity.
In this version, he didn't want to explain it directly. There would only be scattered clues. Fragments of information.
The mother would know some things, but the full story would never be revealed clearly.
Owen completely agreed with that decision.
In horror, the unknown is often far more unsettling than a detailed explanation.
In the version he remembered from his past life, the origin of the entity had eventually been explained quite clearly, too clearly, in fact, which removed some of the mystery and mysticism.
After finishing the shopping, Owen returned to his building.
And he went straight to Jenna's apartment.
She was already waiting for him.
They spent the night together. Between dinner, the marathon of the series they had started watching, and long conversations between episodes, time passed almost without them noticing.
They went to sleep very late.
Owen had planned to wake up early the next morning to go to the office around seven.
But he changed his plans. He sent Matt a message letting him know he would arrive around one.
Matt had keys anyway.
He remembered Bryan's words: he needed to give the relationship space. Even if it meant something as simple as allowing himself a few extra hours.
The next day, ten minutes before one, Owen said goodbye to Jenna. She had things to do as well.
He left the building and drove to the Second Take Films office.
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